


Plan P (Klaine Advent 2019)

by Courageousdreamers



Category: Glee
Genre: Anniversary, Domestic Fluff, Klaine Advent, Klaine Advent Drabble Challenge 2019, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:28:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21674473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Courageousdreamers/pseuds/Courageousdreamers
Summary: When just about everything that possibly can go wrong does, Kurt begins to think their 3rd wedding anniversary will be a total loss. Blaine doesn't quite see it the same way.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Comments: 1
Kudos: 27
Collections: Klaine Advent 2019





	Plan P (Klaine Advent 2019)

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of the Klaine Advent Challenge (2019).  
> Today's prompt was "Date." Enjoy!

To say the day wasn’t going as Kurt had planned would be the understatement of the century. On any other week, today would have just been Thursday, and the fact that it was pouring rain, freezing cold, and that his usual subway station was closed because of a mysterious gas leak would have all been an annoyance, but nothing catastrophic. If nothing else, the 5 years he’d spent in New York so far had taught him how to dodge life’s curve-balls and make do with what you’re given. 

But this wasn’t any other week, and it wasn’t any other Thursday. It was Thursday, November 9th, 2017- His and Blaine’s 3rd wedding anniversary.

In recent years, they had both agreed that there was no need to make a big fuss over expensive evenings or gifts (Kurt had actually been fairly proud of his “cotton year” gift the year before, which he had managed to put together during his lunch breaks and downtime at Vogue using whatever materials he could snatch up without anybody noticing.) Finances were tight, after all, and New York is a lot of things, but affordable was never one. Between finishing up school, accepting whatever acting gigs they could manage, moving out of Ohio and into their own place for the first time, internships, and any other extra work they could pick up, there wasn’t much left in their budget for a $300 moon-lit carriage ride around Central Park for anniversaries. It was usually handmade gifts and cards topped off with a homemade dinner.

And Kurt loved that. He did. Despite his taste for luxury and the finer things in life, when it came down to Blaine, he didn’t need anything besides what he had (he married him in an impromptu barn wedding in rural Indiana for fuck’s sake.)

But this year was supposed to be different. Blaine had finally graduated from NYU and was starting to find success songwriting and composing original music for various off-Broadway productions and theatre companies. Kurt had managed to land a decent role in The Antipodes, which was still far from making its way to Broadway, but it had received great reviews and was paying the bills and even a little something extra- like a nice, romantic, grownup anniversary. He’d even made arrangements to finish up at work a little earlier than usual, meaning he’d be home before 8:00 for once, giving themselves plenty of time to make their 7:30 dinner reservations at Carbone in Manhattan before making their way to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden to finish up the evening. 

Except that none of that was going to happen anymore. Because Kurt got a phone call at 4:15 saying the power went out at the restaurant and they would be closed for the remainder of the evening (“we’re terribly sorry for the inconvenience, Mr. Hummel. Please enjoy $15 off your next visit with us as an apology” the man said through the phone line in a thick Italian accent that Kurt couldn’t help but believe was fake.)

Their stroll through the garden wasn’t looking even the least bit promising either, if the crack of thunder that shook the awning Kurt was taking shelter from the rain under was any indicator. 

Finally, finally, he managed to hail a taxi to take him the 12 blocks to their apartment, at least grateful to be out of the rain. 

He paid his fair and clambered up to their third story apartment. He shook the dripping rain water off his umbrella in the apartment’s dimly-lit hallway, before pushing their door open and stepping inside to find Blaine curled up on their couch watching the evening news. 

“You’ve given up on our big, romantic evening plans already?” Kurt asked with a chuckle, nodding at Blaine’s already pajama-clad form, already feeling some of the tension in his shoulders loosen a bit.

“Well, when you called to let me know our reservations had been cancelled, I figured I’d just get comfy and wait for you to fill me in on plan B, whatever that may be,” Blaine said while struggling to sit upright. It looked like the blankets and pillows were trying to swallow him whole, and Blaine was losing the fight. Kurt laughed under his breath and walk over to the couch to properly greet his husband. 

“Happy anniversary,” Blaine said, tugging Kurt down so he could meet him in a warm kiss. Like usual, Kurt melted into the touch and let it ebb away some of the day’s disappointments and frustrations, willing the affection and love Blaine had to offer seep into his skin, thawing away all the frigid New York air stuck on his limbs. 

“Happy anniversary,” Kurt said back, sighing as he settled down next to him, arms crossed and leaning back into the couch. “But I’m sorry to say, there’s no plan B. We’ve been planning this evening for a month, and it’s all ruined now,” Kurt groaned, sinking even further into the cushions, raking a hand through his still damp hair.

Next thing he knew, Blaine’s warm breath was laughing against his neck. He felt Blaine’s weight shove on top of him as his husband encroached onto his half of the couch, before Blaine practically tackled him. He felt Blaine’s warm hands snake around his neck as he was greeted with a second kiss. Blaine’s lips made their way down Kurt’s neck, stopping to nip at his earlobe before continuing down to his clavicle. 

“Blaineee,” Kurt groaned, trying and failing to sound more frustrated than turned-on. “Not now, we really really need to figure that out that plan B before the night is over. It’s our anniversary!” he reminded him, hands shoving uselessly at a very persistent Blaine’s shoulder. 

“We can just skip right to plan P,” Blaine mumbled against his neck. Above him Kurt snorted out a laugh.

“Oh, yeah? And what exactly is plan P?” Kurt asked with a quirk of an eyebrow. 

“Plan P! Duh!” Blaine said with a feigned obviousness as he finally raised his head, lolling over onto his back in Kurt’s lap.

Kurt stared blankly down at his husband for a moment before waving his wrist around, encouraging Blaine to elaborate.

“Plan P. The ‘p’ is for ‘pizza’ and ‘pajamas.’ It’s when you stay in because it’s disgusting and rainy and cold and your fancy Italian dinner reservations got cancelled, so you pick up some 99 cent slices from Joe’s Deli next door and you curl up in your pajamas with your lovely husband because our anniversary isn’t about candle-lit Manhattan dinners that cost us a week’s worth of rent. It’s about spending time together and appreciating how lucky we are to have found each other and be spending the rest of our lives together.”

Kurt looked up, gaze stuck on the rain gusting around and crashing into their window pane before beginning it’s streaky trek down the glass. After a beat, Kurt’s eyes shifted down again, meeting Blaine’s sincere expression and soft smile. Suddenly guilt clawed at Kurt’s belly just a bit as he realized he’d gotten the importance of today all wrong. Blaine was right. Nothing mattered except the steady rise and fall of Blaine’s breath against his skin and the glint of the metal ring on his finger. Reaching forward, he laced his fingers through Blaine’s where they were resting on his chest. 

“Yeah, okay,” Kurt smiled. “I like plan P,” he continued as Blaine’s smile turned into a cheeky grin.

“Oh good! If you like plan P, you’re gonna love plan F,” Blaine said with a smirk. 

“Mmh,” Kurt hummed as Blaine reached above his head to run his hands down Kurt’s thighs.

“Yup. Plan F. It’s a good one. It comes right after dessert and wine, and takes place in the bedroom,” Blaine said batting his eyelashes up at Kurt. 

“Do I even have to ask what the ‘F’ is for?”

“Nope, I think you’ve got it. Oh, and remember, the third anniversary is the leather gift year,” Blaine said with a wink.  
“I think this evening is really turning around.”


End file.
